


Starlight

by JaybirdSpectacular



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Brigid (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Demonic Beasts, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Post-Canon, Re-upload, Spirits, knock on wood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28167951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaybirdSpectacular/pseuds/JaybirdSpectacular
Summary: A Demonic Beast singing in the night. A monster who seduces with a song of death.Petra hears tales of such Beasts, whispered like curses in the corners of taverns. The knights and soldiers and mercenaries cower in their boots.Petra isn’t frightened. How could she be?It is the voice of her beautiful wife.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Kudos: 12





	Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload! I had deleted it but here it is again WOW

A Demonic Beast singing in the night. A monster who seduces with a song of death.

Petra hears tales of such Beasts, whispered like curses in the corners of taverns. The knights and soldiers and mercenaries cower in their boots.

Petra isn’t frightened. How could she be?

It is the voice of her beautiful wife.

\---

“Marry me,” Dorothea asked- no, demanded Petra at the end of the war before they had even left the battlefield. The Army cheered and celebrated. Nemesis was dead. Fódlan was safe.

Petra only had eyes for the woman cupping Petra’s damp face with her magic scarred hand. Bodies mud and blood covered, eyes full of tears, they were the only two in her world.

“Of course, my love,” She rasped, barely hearing herself, “If you’ll be having me-”

She couldn’t even finish her answer, Dorothea’s lips plucking the words away like the sweetest fruit. She tasted of dirt and sweat and blood, but Dorothea was still a salve on Petra’s lips after the long and brutal war.

“Forever, my Queen. For eternity.”

\---

A mercenary is she, hired to slay that sweet melody, notes on high, silencing them with the sharp edge of her blade.

A man hired her, the dread fear in his eyes pathetically laughable. He feared the beast sought to consume his and his sons’ lives as a dinner. Such a small person as himself would certainly only be considered a snack, at best.

The man lacks true knowledge of death. Petra may appear youthful, but her eyes have seen far more than his.

Petra has no need of coin now, yet she has taken his money anyway, if nothing but for spite. She is no longer of Brigid, of Fódlan, of humanity.

She is a cursed specter, a living ghost long since passed, searching for her beloved.

\---

“Petra,” her voice sung, every note a joyful melody to Petra’s ears. “What is my Queen doing awake at such an hour?”

The rays of the early morning light glistened across Dorothea, creating a sparkle in her eyes not unlike the sunrise itself.

“The sunrise still holds much wonder for me, no matter how many times I see it.”

Dorothea’s smiled stretched like the horizon, “You must be my sunrise, then.” Dorothea came closer, pulling Petra flush against her, the taste of honey from her morning tea lingering on her lips, on Petra’s tongue. “Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning, my wife.”

\---

She keeps losing the trail of her target in the dense forests of Brigid. A slippery wraith her love has become, unwilling to be found. Petra both understands and doesn’t. They have both changed so much.

Petra is a shadow, dangerous and cunning. She writhes through the foliage. A creature of the dark, chasing after the light.

She remembers the warmth of the sun that she hasn’t felt in decades. She feels the touch of her love, caressing her skin. This has all changed, cursed as they were.

Two things have not changed:

Her determination in the hunt.

Her love for the woman she is hunting.

\---

“My love,” said Dorothea in those days long past, “My Queen.”

“My wife,” replied Petra, “My Starlight.”

The days they spent in Brigid were precious grains of sand slipping through the hourglass. Together, the Queens of Brigid brought wealth, knowledge, and power to their country. They had fought a foreign war in a foreign land and won. Their country prospered.

The land was bountiful, the harvests rich. The people kept safe, content.

Foreign dignitaries came with treaties, already all but officially signed formal pacts with friends and comrades, Kings and soldiers. Trade flourished.

Together, they nurtured Brigid, bringing it into even greater glory than before. Authority in its own right, never to bow again to outside pressure.

Even after their peaceful deaths at ripe old ages, they were remembered by all for their ferocious might, radical change, peaceful rule.

But they hadn’t truly died. Not yet.

\---

“Dorothea,” sings Petra how Dorothea taught her. The sun will rise soon, her starlight cast away by the sunrise. She will be forced to start over once again.

Petra crouches. Listens.

“Petra, my queen. Petra, my love.”

Petra wants to cry, to sob, to shout in joy. Dorothea, now a foggy whisp, translucent, the forest visible through her. Yet her smile is radiant, the sun and the stars and all the lights in between. She looks like the queen she was in life, young, her back straight, shoulders squared, proud. Ready for a fight.

“Shall we rest, my wife?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

\---

“I will love you through all of eternity,” said Dorothea, “even through death.”

Petra knocked gently on the wood of her desk. “Careful, my Starlight. The spirits of Brigid listen, and sometimes play terrible tricks with your wishes.”

“Let them,” Dorothea challenged.

They listened.

\---

The whisp of Dorothea fades, a Demonic Beast, dark and scaled, crashes through the underbrush.

Petra readies her sword, drawing it against the one she vowed she never would.

\---

At the end of their life, they went peacefully, Dorothea mere days before Petra. She knew she would follow soon. Petra was at peace, until in a single instant, a small flash of light came from the body of her beloved as she lay peacefully.

She worried about Dorothea’s words all those years ago.

With her final days, her final thoughts, she pleaded with the spirits. If Dorothea was not truly at rest, please allow Petra to save her.

The spirits listened once again.

\---

For all the time it took to start it, the fight finishes swiftly. A blink of an eye, the last grains of sand trickling through the hourglass.

The Beast is slain, and again appears the form of Dorothea.

“Petra, my Queen.”

“Dorothea, my Starlight.”

“Shall we begin the second half of eternity?”

Dorothea holds out her hand, and Petra takes it without hesitation.

She isn’t afraid. She could never be.

The voice of her wife calls to her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/JaybirdSpec)


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